


Dance of Her Shrieking Blade to the Warsong in His Heart

by ScarredMuzzle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Battle Scenes, F/M, Fighting, Force Bond (Star Wars), Lightsabers, M/M, Original Weapons, Slow Burn, Use of the Force, Weapon use, X-Wing(s), reader is a badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarredMuzzle/pseuds/ScarredMuzzle
Summary: IMPORTANT UPDATE IN LATEST CHAPTER'SUSPENDED INDEFINITLEY'
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	1. First Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so hi. I'm a recent inductee into the wonderful world of Star Wars and have decided to gift this incredible universe with a work of my own writing in a way that I hope honors the complexity and the depth of the characters. In the universe, i have done two things to change the timeline in order for the story that I want to develop to take place. 1) Leia and Snoke are already dead. Palpatine does not exist and Kylo is solely acting as his own entity. No overlords or creepers in the dark. 2) I have created a weapon for you, the reader, known as a cyrack. Inspired by my time in indoor percussion, cyracks are modeled after the movements of the cymbal line, as I have always loved the intensity and ease of which they could be used in a battle scene. This video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11rzoHgB6_k is a perfect representation of how the 'cyracks' will move and act in a battle scene. I hope that you watch it or else you might get a little confused by how they are described. I believe that's all from me for now. Thank you for giving this story a chance.

“Fall back! _FALL BACK!”_

You gritted your teeth as you slammed another trooper into the ground, the cyrack singing in your hand as it carved through the helmet and hit, then cracked, bone. You lunged and swung for another, the armor splintering under the metal. The jungle grounds of Ajan Kloss were overrun by the stark white of the Stormtroopers, the Resistance tan and pilot orange too far and few between the dense green foliage. You heard General Poe’s command, the order to retreat and run back to the transports echoing in your ears as another trooper went down. You heeded, considered, then denied the warning. You were tired. Of running, of fighting, of this endless dance between the Resistance and the First Order. Your bones ached for rest, for some quiet and a nap where the next day didn’t involve fighting for your life and clawing at a chance of survival. _Giving up is not an option._ The mantra branded on your brain resurfaced as the din of battle came back, forcing you to remember where you were. 

It was battle instinct to throw up your right hand, palm flat. A blaster shot rung off your cyrack as you swung with the left, slicing into the shoulder of the next trooper. There were four of them around you now, the sounds of blasters and screams fading again as you zeroed in. No move to be without purpose, no time to be wasted. You spun, getting low and diving through the circle to break it, rolling to the right and bashing in the helm of one of the four. Using his body as a shield, you threw him into the second, the stray blaster shots being parried into the third and fourth. Seven more took their place and you groaned internally, fortifying for another round. 

_Wait. Watch. Listen. Move._

They all fired at once, their shots bouncing off of the cyracks’ dark phrik plates as you ducked and shielded your head from the blasts. They shot back to their owners and two went down, the others ducking out of the way. Throwing your left hand into the stomach of the one closest, you crashed into another, avoiding the blaster shots and working your way methodically around the circle, just as before, just as next, just as always. _Always a cycle,_ you thought cynically as you sliced through the last trooper’s torso. You retrieved your left hand and fell back, noting the wave of fresh white in between the trees ahead. 

Battle still surged in your arms, the cyracks still ringing from the last blow. You gently stroked your thumb on the ridges that traversed the surface, trying to soothe them and yourself. It was getting harder as the days went on, to pull yourself out of the battle, to remind yourself that they needed you and you couldn’t just give up in a circle of troopers because of a _feeling._ You were a Commander in the Resistance, and that meant _not giving up._

As you went, you made sure that any Resistance members that needed help were pointed in the right direction, back to the transports, to another planet, another base. Your chest heaved as you helped a broken pilot stand and stumble through the bush, back to the shaky base constructed in the rocks. He staggered and caught himself, pushing through the branches and disappearing. A few screams over to your right, three troopers were chasing some Resistance members, dangerously close to discovering the location of the camouflaged transports that encircled the main base. With a grunt, you unhooked your left and threw it frisbee style, slicing into the middle of the closest one. The other two paused to see what kept their comrade and the last thing the saw was the dark metal of phrik and a feral gleam of teeth. 

_“Where the hell are you Commander?”_ The comlink on your wrist crackled to life as the last trooper fell, the fleeing Resistance members staring in awe. You nudged a plated hand at them to go, breath coming in short gasps as the exertion of battle pulled at your lungs and forced you to take a break. 

“Cleaning up the stragglers, General. Get everyone off and leave me with Yellow Bird. Inform my battalion that I will not be leaving with them.” The beginning of a protest crackled on the com, but you shut it off. You knew the odds. Hell, you talked through them with Poe, Rey, and Finn not three hours ago, before the First Order launched their nasty surprise attack that took out a whole wing of the Red Squadron. The transports needed time to load, get into the air, and eventually jump into the safety that hyperspace would offer. Their numbers were low enough as it was that losing even one transport to a stray TIE fighter would mean a detrimental loss. They needed time and the only way to stall was to distract, to fight like an acklay and hope that it was enough for your troops. 

Your muscles were begging for a break as you spun to face the treeline, the indescribable feeling of being at the wrong end of a blaster prickling the hair on the back of your sweat soaked neck. You dived behind a fallen tree as blaster fire unleashed upon the spot you were just standing in, legs screaming as you forced yourself into a crouch. You dug the edges of your blades into the soft dirt as the fire continued into the surrounding area, hoping to hit a stray person or transport. As the shots died out, you rounded your path and kept low, aiming for the left of the treeline that had concealed your attackers. 

A whole squadron of troopers stood, aimed at the treeline and encircling figures that milled around a center point, the distinct shouting of orders and battle clamor filling the clearing. You aimed for a better area to see the center of the circle, a small outcropping that would provide cover and a vantage point. Finding one much further to the left and slightly back in the colossal forest, you moved, carefully watching your steps. The ground was soft moss and leaf litter with the occasional hard branch that could easily reveal your position. Halfway to your vantage point, the central figures called out to the troopers, who deployed in groups with a leader at the front. There was something familiar about the leaders of the troops, but they were still too far out to get a good look without risking your cover. Still, the heavy black armor distinctly set them apart from their white counterparts. 

They quickly disappeared into the dense foliage, the wide green leaves swallowing up the sound of their armor and feet as they moved in different directions in an outward push, the center of the circle acting as the setting sun and the troops moving outward like the dying rays. As they dispersed, you could more clearly glimpse the central figures, tall and plated in the same dark armor with splatters of red that were common in First Order higher ups. 

The three figures that were left in the center of the clearing, along with ten troopers, were unmistakable to anyone who had been enlisted in the Resistance longer than a day. 

The two broad shouldered statues of black were of the elite group known as the Knights of Ren, The Supreme Leader’s special guard dogs. The bad thing about the Knights wasn’t the figures themselves, as imposing and dangerously skilled on a battlefield as they were. Their presence meant that _he_ was here, as the Knights typically didn’t let him out of their sight. A spiked mace hung from the belt of one while two identical daggers gleamed under the cape of the other. You shuddered as you continued your trek more cautiously than before. As solid as your cyracks were, you didn’t like the idea of testing them against beskar steel of First Order make. 

Carefully stepping over a crumbling tree trunk, you recounted what you knew about the First Order’s dreadfully feared Supreme Leader. 

Last year, after murdering his Master Snoke and claiming the seat of the Supreme Leader of the First Order, the whole galaxy knew his name and the reputation he carried with it. 

_Night Incarnate, Pain Wielder, He Who Has No Mercy._

You heard the rumors that were flung around camp when the shadows grew long and lips were loosened with whatever local ale could be scrounged up. Tales of his scarlet blade, so unlike those that came before it. The systems he has destroyed, the planets that crumbled in his hold, the people that fought against him that were now dust on the wind. The stories that the vets told, of the way that he had taken out the Jedi temple and took some others with him, of how he made himself an orphan, how he disappeared from Resistance spies only to reappear as a commander in the First Order. 

There were some stories that the vets told only when the new recruits had retired and the systems above looked particularly bleak. They spoke of a small raven haired child with a penchant for mischief. A child of two of the most prominent members in the galaxy with control of the revered Force unbeholden by any Jedi before him, even Master Skywalker. They said that the General had aged a decade when she sent her son away, almost as if she _knew_ what would become of it. They said that she passed away on her deathbed with her dead son’s name still on her lips. 

Looking at him now, guarded by two of his lapdogs and tracking something using a com, it was hard to see what gave him his names, what made those that had met him blanche at the mere mention of him. His signature black helmet was on, the rivlets of red zigzagging across the shiny black surface. A hood concealed his shoulders and his wider frame, tapering into a tunic and battle hardened boots. Though you couldn’t see it, you were sure that his saber strapped to his side. Blasted prick didn’t go anywhere without it. You went to move again when it hit. 

It rolled through the clearing, an invisible wave of pure _something_ that emanated from the figure in the center. It buzzed in your ears and your mouth flooded with the taste of basil and citrus. You grimaced and moved even _more_ cautiously. The almighty Force was clearly present and you need not be exposed through carelessness. As you moved through the forest and towards the outcropping, the hum in your ears got louder. You felt the ache in your bones as the raw power rippled through the branches like a phantom wind. The basil and citrus intensified into a nauseating mixture and you fought the urge to gag. Rey’s power never tasted like that, never made your ears ring and your bones quiver with unease. 

Leia always talked of the Force with a wistful look in her eyes. _“The energy that binds all things, that is and isn’t. It walks among us, with us, besides us, as an ally within our young Jedi.” Rey had blushed and looked away at that. “It gives us hope, reminds us that there is good left saving, that if the Force has not left us, that we are never hopeless. We are one with the Force. We are it. It is us.”_ That was her last talk before the TIE had exploded her transport on the way to Ajan Kloss. They were able to recover her and kept her in the medbay for a week before her heart gave out. Though Poe had been training for close to a year, it still took the Resistance months to recover. Things were never the same. 

The crackling of the coms continued as the troopers kept on eye on the treeline and overhead. You were almost to the outcropping and far, _far,_ away from your ship. Or what was left of it at this point. It didn’t matter, you decided. If you could make a dent now, like your blood sung to, why not go out swinging? Break them and give them a name to remember. Or a name to curse. 

The five pairs of troopers patrolled the clearing as you clambered up onto the outcropping, resting your forehead against the cool stone and bracing your aching muscles for battle. The cyracks were nearly vibrating in your hand, maybe in response to the strange outward projection of the Force or maybe due to your own bloodlust. Just as you readied to lunge for the nearest pair, their shared com crackled to life. 

_“Tell the Supreme Leader that there is only one x-wing remaining at the base. The last transport has just left the atmosphere. The rebel scum cleared out before we could make it.”_ A breath you didn’t know you were holding released and the tension that left a knot in the pit of your stomach unraveled. _They were safe, thank the stars._

“Roger, reporting now.” They turned to report and that’s when you struck, right hand going blade flat into the helm and left driving through the back of the other’s neck. Time to run. 

* * *

“Two groups have yet to return sir, but the three others reported nothing unusual.” The Knight reported to his master. Strange that the four troopers were late, but perhaps they were being thorough. 

“Dagrun. Why do you suppose the two groups haven't returned yet? Amuse me.” The voice sounded deeper and metallic coming from the mask, but most things did. The Force danced and rippled around them, a slight shimmering quality present in the air. 

“They could be indisposed sir. Or taking their time. They know to press their coms if they need help.” The Knight answered, his daggers gleaming at his side. 

“Perhaps.” **_Here._ ** Supreme Leader Kylo Ren reached to the left of Dagrun, his hand curled to receive the Stormtrooper helmet that burst from the bushes. He inspected it upon arrival, tracing the straight line gash stretching from the forehead to the base of where the neck would’ve fallen. He turned the helmet in his hand and handed it to the Knight. “Tell Kingsley to watch the other three patrols. That blasted _cyrack_ girl is here.” The com sparked on his wrist. 

“Supreme Leader, only one patrol has returned to my spot. Should I return to you or search for the others?” 

* * *

You pulled your left out of the cracked torso, the phrik repelling the blood that came with it. Only one patrol left before you had to try and edge around the circle and back to your ship, if it was still in one piece. And the other squadrons had to be avoided. Stars, this was a mess. You flipped your right in an old habit of nerves, staying low in the bush to not alert the last patrol that you were hunting. As you settled to lunge, your legs braced close to the ground and muscles tensed to spring, call it luck. You heard the change of the air, felt the word **_move_ **get pushed into your head. 

You instinctively blocked the swing, the weight of the mace digging your heels into the soft ground. The mace made contact with your crossed cyracks that rattled your arms and made your teeth sing. They whined as the sharpened spikes scraped across the surface of the plate. The weight behind the swing would’ve easily been enough to kill you as you thrusted with the momentum and sent the mace back, using your right hand to continue its path while jabbing hard with your left. 

What you didn’t expect was the armored foot that thrust into your abdomen and sent you sprawling into the clearing, your breath stolen from your lungs with a gasp and replaced with a deep ache in your ribs. The sky would’ve been beautiful if it didn’t suddenly get obscured by a mace that you narrowly avoided by rolling, pushing on your cyracks to put some space between you and the Knight. You knew by the flashing comlink on the Knight’s wrist that he had already signaled to his friends. No way out now. 

A small part of you died at that. You never got to say goodbye to Rey, to Finn, to Poe, even if he didn’t deserve it. You didn’t get to fulfill your promise to your parents, to restore peace and to see balance through. You wouldn’t see the stars again, wouldn’t sit with the ground members around the fire. But you could buy them more time. The longer you stalled the Knights, the Supreme Leader, the further the Resistance could get. You would not sacrifice this pitiful life you lived in vain. _Not today._

You whirled and spun, the meticulously sharpened edge of the phrik digging into the chain of the mace. You pushed your palm out and deflected it, following with a jab from the left. This time the move carried through until it hit the forearm guard and you were forced to draw back and brace for the next impact. _Stall, stall, stall._

Sparks flew off your cyrack as the mace made contact again, the impact drawing out some of the last vestiges of strength that were left in your body. It wouldn’t be long until the second Knight found them, or until your arms gave out. _Give them hell first, give them a name to curse._ You kicked out and made to swipe at his foot, hoping to somehow topple him and run. 

The breath got pushed out of your lungs as you fell instead, the sheer weight of Knight making him as solid as the trees around you. **_To your right._ **You blocked as the dagger pinged against the metal and you breathed out a curse. The other Knight had found them. You pushed off the dagger, flipped back to your feet, the mace smashing the ground where you had been. You stepped behind, aiming for his neck when another dagger made straight for your face. You deflected on instinct and continued with your strike, making a dent in the armor. 

_“Rebel scum!”_ The mace swinger hissed as he swung lower, forcing you to jump and risk getting impaled on the lightning fast daggers. Deciding to not waste your breath on a response, you threw your cyracks back into the dagger wielding Knight, only to hit more of their reinforced armor. 

_Damn it. Damn it all to hell._ You were getting boxed in further and further away from your craft by the moment. The Knights’ masks gave no hint to their exertion, no trace of emotion at all. Their strikes were endless and each as strong as the last. Your muscles felt each blow as double the last, the daggers becoming a point of distraction as the mace sapped your strength. You couldn't hold this for much longer, not in your battle weary state. There was one question that still lingered as you took the blows: _where was the Supreme Leader?_

* * *

She moved with anger and with purpose, not a move unblocked or unchecked or _unchallenged._ As Dagrun and Kingsley closed in, she still fought. She knew it was hopeless, he tasted it in the air, yet she still fought for a chance to break free and get to safety. Where that would be, he didn’t know, yet she still fought for it. Those phrik plates, _cyracks,_ the spys had reported, were uncommonly rare weapons. Fewer still since the rise of the Galactic Empire, yet there was the hotblooded young commander, wielding them with an instinct beyond her years. As interesting as it was to watch, he felt Knigsley’s rage fold over itself and explode, and as much as it would’ve been entertaining to see him succeed, he froze the scene before him with a wave of his hand. 

“Stand down. We still need her alive, remember.” Kingsley’s helmet dipped in acknowledgement, though the rage still stained his aura, a simmering fire of an instinctual need to tear apart the source of it. Dagrun holstered his daggers and awaited further orders. The girl was frozen in midswing, the ferality of battle still in her eyes as they rolled around, the only movement the Supreme Leader’s hold allowed. Her plain face was twisted in a snarl, looking every bit the cornered animal she was. 

“Commander Dameron. An impressive display of talent indeed. Shame I have no need of it today.” 

* * *

That kriffing _dick._ The ringing in your ears wouldn’t stop and the basil and citrus wrapped around your tongue in a vice, spreading it’s acid into your veins. You tried to move anything, your eyelids, right eyebrow, left pinkie toe. Nothing. No movement except for your eyes. The Knights went and stood behind him, the mace user’s shoulders still heaving with the effort of the fight. It gave you a dull feeling of pride, even as you knew certain death awaited, to see that you could hold your own against a Knight of Ren. 

* * *

“Where is the Resistance heading, Commander? Where are your friends going, leaving their prized songbird behind to fend for herself?” The force of her rage surprised even herself as it surged through her, the implications that her family would leave her behind stinging the nerve he hoped to strike. Anger made people vulnerable, a useful tool in extracting the information he needed to finally quash the Resistance once and for all. If he were to dig through her mind to find the location he needed, he was going to need an open door to do it. 

“Shame you won’t be able to say goodbye to your little friends before I take what I need. It will be a divine pleasure to hear them scream your name as I cut them to pieces.” As the immense rage grew, thrashing and roaring in her head, he gathered the energy around him, the flow of Force curling around his arm and purring like a cat. He shaped the raw power, caressed it and speared it towards her mind. **_There._ **

* * *

You felt it. The missile hurtling for you. It wasn’t physical or even visible, yet indescribably you knew where it was going. It must’ve been instinct at that point, a survivor's hand and a warrior’s heart that _screamed_ in primal rage and fury that descended from the heavens above. _This is not my end. I will die where I can fight, I will die when I allow it, not when a_ bastard _decides._ You let the rage gather and pool and form into a beast, waiting for the stupid viper to strike and to _dare try to break you._ As soon as the missle cleaved your mind, looked at you with slitted eyes and an eerie awareness, you fucking _struck._

You flung yourself at it, clawing and tearing at the Force. It screamed in surprise and the noise blasted your eardrums, not that it mattered. It was _here,_ in _your_ head and it wanted to _kill you._ You clawed and tore at what you could reach as the other balked away from your claws and tried to gain the upper hand. It hissed and screamed as you pinned it, a sliver slinking away and trying to return to its master. You shredded the corpse and whirled, the sliver nearly gone from your mind. 

You reached and _yanked_ it back _,_ finding a tether attached and diving for it with your claws. You distantly felt the wind and the sun of the clearing before stumbling into the black hole from which the sliver came. _Not my end, not my end, not my end._ This was a lion’s den that you had landed in, far more dangerous than where you had just come from. Didn’t mean that you couldn’t do your worst. You shredded and ripped what you could find, caused damage in any way you could, kicked, bucked and _thrashed because goddamnit you were alive._

You distantly watched him stagger behind a smoky screen, felt the Force around you ripple and release. You were suddenly slammed back into your body, the beast dissipating as you landed on the ground with your knees barking in pain. You turned and sprinted into the woods and didn’t look back. 

* * *

_She broke it. She found me and attacked me and_ **_broke it._ ** The Force snarled and stalked in his head, the beast that lurked their moments ago running through the woods. He dimly registered Kingsley asking (begging) to give chase as Dagrun’s silent concern prickled his scalp. He felt his mouth say no, the words coming out croakily in the mask. The Supreme Leader played the memory over and over again, the way that she had _become_ what was raging inside of her, how she tore and took what she wanted and left. He didn’t know how the cyrack girl had done it. The raw ferality he had felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced, especially when searching in the mind of another _._ It didn’t scare him, as nothing tended to, yet it only renewed his curiosity, his interest in the anomaly that was this girl. The Resistance had a _very_ powerful weapon and he fully intended to make use of it. 

* * *

You hated your traitorous legs for shaking as you sprinted to your ship. It was too close, anything was too close to the Supreme Leader with what you just witnessed, the feelings you had dug up. Your stomach churned and threatened to hurl as you pushed on, the scene from the clearing replaying at lightspeed over and over again in your mind. Damn the other trooper battalions in these woods, you needed to get to the _Yellow Bird,_ and get the fuck off of this stars forsaken planet. You nearly cried in relief upon seeing your untouched craft, the footprints in the dirt showing that the troopers had simply observed it and had not gone inside. 

You sheathed the cyracks on your back before hopping into the cockpit and turning the ignition, stabilizing the compressor and immediately taking off into the atmosphere, unable to shake the basil and citrus from your mouth or the feeling of a blank black visor watching you leave. 

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Teardrops of a Wasteland Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to face the consequence of your actions from the Battle of Ajan Kloss. Speeding your ship away, you wander through the days events and try to piece it together into something that makes sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second installment!! Let's go!!

Your breathing slowly evened out as you guided your ship into hyperspace. The coordinates that were sent to your dead com still pinged into  _ Yellow Bird’s  _ register and you set course for Adrathorpe. You couldn’t help but smile as you realized that it was a smaller planet near Jakku, knowing that Rey must have picked the safe spot in order to fly under the First Order’s radar. Hopefully her familiarity with her home planet and the surrounding region would let them have an easy landing. 

You gently pulled your circular pack off of your shoulders and set in next to your seat, mentally logging the fact that your cyracks needed to be resharpened and polished when you had the chance. Leaning back more comfortably in the cockpit, you gnawed on a ration and watched as the stars went by. You knew you needed to address the last few hours and flipped the ship into autopilot, double checking the course was properly set before allowing yourself to try and dissect the events that had just transpired. 

You had disobeyed direct orders from your General. You flinched when imagining the verbal lashing you were going to receive upon your arrival to Adrathorpe. Poe had always had a temper, a spark that, when directed properly, was the source of his passionate and fiery personality. Lately it had been the cause for the rift between you two, the line between big brother and General blurring to the point where every statement from him felt more like an order. Maybe it was selfish to ask him to act like a brother when the weight of the Resistance was on his shoulders. You felt a tinge guilty turning off your com and possibly causing more stress, but you  _ did  _ buy more time for the Resistance to run. That had to count for something and surely the General would see it as a worthy sacrifice. Your brother, on the other hand, you weren’t sure that he would take it well at all. 

You grimaced again at the idea of Poe finding out that you had fought not one, but  _ two  _ Knights of Ren. That was a third of the group that you, a girl from Kijimi with two metal plates strapped onto your hand, went toe to toe with. Yes, your muscles ached with the stress of the battle, and yes, you had been scared out of your wits, but you had fought against both of them and  _ held your own _ . That was surely something to take pride in, damn Poe  _ and _ his over-protectiveness. Your bruises and aches demanded it. You had done well and it only meant that your skills were improving. To beat them, however, would be another story. 

But most importantly, you had broken a force hold from the  _ Supreme Leader of The First Order.  _ You had done something, and you still weren’t sure what, to twist free and get back to  _ Yellow Bird  _ as fast as your legs would take you. You faintly remember the dull scream of a beast in your ear and the feeling of tearing things apart. As for anything else that transpired, it was lost in the hazy cloud of fear spiked adrenaline that took over your system as you fought against the very real threat of death. You could still remember the strange darkness that you had landed in right before freeing yourself, chills skittering down your spine as the feeling came back in a wave. You remember the eyes watching from the shadows, the foregin scent in your nose that made your eyes water. It strangely felt as if you had seen something that you weren’t meant to, pulled the curtain too far back and revealed the puppeteer behind the show. 

You were jarred out of your thoughts by the  _ Yellow Bird  _ entering the Jakku system. As you plugged in the coordinates to Adrathorpe, you toyed with the idea of turning the ship’s signal on and letting the Resistance know you were still alive. It should have been a simple decision, yet you paused with your finger hovering above the button. 

_ What if you left? Tried for a planet in the Outer Rim and never looked back. No more fighting, no more bloodshed. No more pain and suffering, day in day out. You could make it on your own. You had enough skill to scrape a living together and make it somewhere.  _

You shook the traitorous thoughts from your head. You had troops depending on you, friends that you called family, and your blood waiting for you on Adrathorpe. The rest of your life would be filled with deserter’s shame and guilt, certainly no way to live. You let out a dry laugh into the stale air of the cockpit. As if you knew what real life was. You had been born and raised in the Resistance. And even though Poe decreed that Kijimi was too much of an outpost to be declared home, your first memories with him involved doing a spice run in a beat up x-wing, the colors and the buttons of the control panel as vivid in the memory as they were before you. 

You turned on the signal beacon and waited for a response, getting Jakku and a much smaller Adrathorpe on your radar. A few seconds later, a transmission was received from the surface of the planet, bearing coordinates to a ghost town that the Resistance was claiming as a base. You angled your thrusters to reroute for the town and let the weight of the cyracks against your legs calm your nerves. 

* * *

As you initiated the landing sequence in the midst of the Gold Squadron, a figure ran out to greet you on the makeshift tarmac. Landing securely and extinguishing the thrusters, you pulled off the helmet and climbed out of the cockpit, landing in sand and coarse rock. The figure, who you could more clearly see wrapped in tan cloth and goggles, ran out to greet you and swung you into a hug, Rey’s laugh pushing forth from beneath the layers of fabric. Of course she would already be prepared to face the weather, perfectly natural in the element that she spent most of her life in. 

You squeezed back as hard as you could, tears springing in your eyes as you realized how close you had come to never seeing your best friend again. Rey pulled the goggles up and the cloth down, speaking near to your ear as the wind picked up and sent sand smattering around the ship. 

“As wonderful as it is to see you alive Commander, the General wants to see you at home base. Something about disobeying direct orders and-” she picked up your wrist in a loose grip and gestured to the dead com “-turning off your comlink when you  _ know  _ that's the opposite of what to do in battle.” Even though her voice was teasing, you saw the very real fear in her eyes. They didn’t know if you were alive or not and still had to make the choice to leave, for the good of the Resistance. You hated to imagine being in that same position and having to make that call with any of them. Shame washed over you and made your face burn, the sand stinging your cheeks and tears welling up in your eyes. Rey pulled you into another hug and intertwined her arm with yours. She flipped her goggles back down and began leading you to the buildings in the distance, most certainly to your brother and his wrath.

You both arrived at a large ramshackle building, wings stretching in all directions throughout the dunes. With more holes than windows and a miniscule second story, it was definitely up there on the list of shoddy bases that the Resistance had to claim as home. The advantage of obscurity of this base was nearly outweighed by it’s complete and total lack of security. If the First Order tracked them down here, it may very well be the last stand. The wings of the base, at least from this angle, looked haphazard and hastily constructed. The random turns and sharp corners looked erratic in nature and would serve for a strange layout to get used to. The large central dome like structure looked sturdy enough as Rey led you through a gap in the wings to a small side door. 

The wind picked up as you and Rey shook off the sand in the entryway. With sand nearly blasted through the open door, Rey shouldered it closed while you shook out the last of the sand from your hair. She began unwrapping her coverings when a very distinct  _ whir  _ came from further down the hall. You reached down to retie your boot and got slammed into the now closed door by a spinning ball. A very  _ angry  _ spinning ball. 

“ _ Kriff  _ bud, you nearly took off my shoulder.” You soothed a still chirping BB-8 and finished retying your boot. Accepting Rey’s hand to pull you up, you gestured for the droid to lead the way through the building. 

With BB-8 leading you through the maze of hallways, you cringed a bit at the thick layer of dust that coated every surface available. While it wasn’t the worst place that you’ve stayed in, your nose already started to itch. Peeking into the passing rooms as you walked, evidence of the Resistance became more and more frequent the closer you got to the central dome. It made sense that the further the wings were from the central structure, the less substantial and more likely to collapse they had become. 

Bootprints led in and out of the rooms, some doors open with crates of rations and supplies already sticking out. Some doors were closed and marked with an ‘X’, most likely because the rooms had either been swept through and deemed unstable or plainly already collapsed. Looking at the ceiling, wires lay exposed and bulbs were busted with the glass long ground to dust by the abrasive wind. It would take a long time to establish an electrical connection that would be stable enough to support this building, let alone the whole town. You heard the echo of voices from further down the hall, picking up Poe’s ‘General’ voice and a few of the higher ranking officers responding back.  _ Stars help me.  _

BB-8 led you straight into the voices, all echoing in the central dome structure that you spied from outside. All eyes turned to you as the droid dutifully reported to his master, who was currently in the middle of giving a progress report to what seemed like more than half of the Resistance. As his eyes came to rest on you, you saw the muscles feather and tighten in his jaw. He looked no worse for wear, though his pilot uniform was covered in sand and grime. His eyes revealed a confusing mix of fury and relief, hands in the middle of accentuating a point that he must’ve said before your arrival. The air felt frozen in the room before Finn all but cried your name and charged you, wrapping you in a bear hug. You clung to his shoulders and thanked the stars that he broke the tension, other members of your unit and other troops coming to greet you. 

It was sad, the number of people in the room. Each hand that brushed your shoulder or ruffled your hair was a reminder that these people were survivors, that they needed the physical reassurance that you were alive and well, as if to say ‘ _ Look! Look, another is safe, we have one more to fight with, one more we saved!’  _ Finn held you at arm’s length and studied your face, then the rest of your body. Satisfied that he found no major injuries he crushed you into another hug. 

“Don’t you  _ ever  _ pull shit like that again, you hear me?  _ Ever.”  _ With the emotion behind his words choking him out, you knew he said it quietly enough so Poe didn’t hear. He didn’t need to know that Finn and Rey had already scolded you, though not nearly as harshly as you deserved. 

“Thank you for finally joining us, Commander Dameron.” Okay,  _ ow.  _ The steel in your brother’s voice wrought another wave of shame upon your body, igniting the instinct to curl in Finn’s arms and away from his burning gaze. Finn shot a look at the General over his shoulder, no doubt a warning glare. He brought you over to a crate and seated you, your legs crying out in relief after the run through the forest. Handing you a flask and not letting you out of arm’s reach, Finn pulled up a crate and pushed it against yours. Rey settled into your other side and you were never more thankful for your friends. With Finn’s arm draped over your shoulder and Rey’s hand clutched tight in yours, your inner turmoil finally settled into something manageable.  _ I’ll never even think about leaving them again.  _

Once the group quieted again, Poe gave you one last loaded look before continuing with the report. They had lost six Red Squadron ships, all completely decimated by the surprise attack. Three lives were lost to the blasters as they sacrificed their safety to make sure that people were loaded into the transport before them. The words weighed heavy in the dull air, every person in the room remembering the faces that brought them time to leave and to escape. Fuel was low and the jump through hyperspace nearly depleted the tanks, so stocking was a priority. 

Your eyes glazed over as the General began listing nearby settlements that different groups would travel to in search of fuel, parts, rations, and rumors. Planning the next move was never easy. It was hard to predict where the First Order had a firm hold and where they simply had underlings that could be paid off. Groups would have to stay low in numbers to avoid suspicion, but if they were found out, they’d be on their own with few allies to back them. You took a swig from the flask and stifled a groan of pleasure. Water was a rarity in dry places like this and your parched throat demanded more, tired of the thin ale that was the norm for hydrating the troops. You restrained yourself from chugging it and wordlessly handed it back to Finn. 

“For now, all we can do is hope. To see the next day with a new sense of purpose, to remember why we are fighting. To honor those who have fought this fight longer than us and those who have succumbed to it too soon. Focus on unpacking and settling and planting shallow roots. We need to know what resources can be found and start planning our next move accordingly. May the Force be with us.” With finality, the members of the Resistance began to disperse into adjoining rooms and the smaller shacks scattered around the ghost town. You went to stand and your legs barked in pain, the muscles smarting as the last bits of adrenaline finally left your body. You were about to ask Rey where hands were needed most when the inevitable became the present. 

“Commander. I would like to speak with you  _ alone,  _ if you would be so humble to allow it.” The adrenaline came rushing back as your eyes met your brother’s. They were unflinchingly cold and yielded not an inch, every bit the fearless leader of a dying cause, no brother in sight. You nearly snarled as you opened your mouth to lash back, not regretting your actions on Ajan Kloss for one  _ second.  _

“Poe.” Rey’s voice was stone, not the bubble of her usual humor or life behind it. “She needs rest. She can barely stand and we all just went through a lot, including a fight for our  _ lives _ . Do this in the morning when you’ve both been given a chance to rest and recoup.” Rey’s attempt at trying to protect you from his rage seemed to only heighten it. Poe’s form went rigid, every line in his body tight with tension. 

“I said  _ now  _ and _ alone,  _ Commander.” Poe was practically vibrating with rage and you gently brushed Finn’s arm from your shoulder as you stood. You schooled your features into something you hoped looked neutral as your bones protested moving any further.  _ I will not show weakness.  _

“I’ll be fine guys. Just save me a cot, okay?” You offered a weak smile to Rey and saw nothing but concern in her eyes, her hand still gently clasped in yours. You shook your head slightly and squeezed her hand before letting it drop, turning to follow Poe to wherever he was calling an office. 

* * *

He led you up a metal staircase that was pushed into a dark corner of the main dome, rocking under two people’s weight after going unused for so long. The stairs led to the second story of the dome, surprising still mostly intact and boasting a single door at the top of the stairs. The General opened the door and stalked into the room, each step feeling more and more like a stomp on the fragile floors. 

The office was small and already cluttered, documents of sensitive Resistance material in lockboxes stored next to the ancient desk that took up most of the space. A lone window framed the back of the desk, looking over the flat area that was doubling as the landing site for the x-wing squadrons. Shapes moved through the ships to reach the other buildings in the town, all looking as broken and run down as the next. 

As soon as you closed the door behind you, Poe paced behind the desk, the unbridled rage that you saw in his eyes apparating as he ran his hands through his hair. His spine was a rod straight line of anger as he faced the window, cutting a broad silhouette against the dunes. Huffing in frustration when his hands got caught in his windswept locks, he whirled, fire practically dancing in his eyes. 

“ _ What the fuck were you thinking?”  _ The vein in his forehead throbbed and for the first time in a while, you took a very close look at your brother. His dark hair was a frizzy mess with sand coating the thick curls, no worse off than his uniform that was splattered in dirt and muck. His hands were clenched at his side now, balling in fists with a white-knuckled grip. He was shaking, the wrinkles in his face becoming more pronounced as he realized you didn’t intend to respond.

“You made me choose between trying to save  _ your self-sacrificing ass  _ and the safety of the Resistance. You turned your com off in the middle of battle, didn’t signal you were safe until you nearly landed. You ignored every protocol in the _ kriffing _ book. You disobeyed direct orders from your General, you let Rey and Finn  _ fucking coddle you in front of ev-”  _

“Don’t you dare bring them into this!” The shame you felt earlier was replaced with fury that made your fists clench at your side. “I was trying to buy more time for the Resistance to flee and make it here in one piece! One transport lost was not  _ viable,  _ not an option in the slightest and I was prepared to make sure it didn’t happen.” You let your voice raise as the emotions and the stress of the day overtook you. “I did it for you! I did it for them, so they would have a fighting chance and those lives weren’t sacrificed in vain! Don’t you dare say I made you choose when every choice I have ever made has been for the damn  _ cause!”  _ Your rant ended with a finger jabbed into his chest. Poe took a deep breath and let it out, chest heaving with the effort to stay collected. 

“I ordered you to retreat, for your safety and for the safety of the Resistance. If you do not realize the value that you possess for the rebellion and the importance of your position -” His eyes swiveled to meet yours. “-then perhaps you don’t deserve it.” You blinked as his words registered before you realized what he was insinuating. The angry tears starting running, near scalding against your sand burnt cheeks. 

“I did not dedicate my life to the Resistance for my  _ brother  _ to tell me that my choices, the choices I made in batte to benefit the entire rebellion, were invalid. I did not take down a whole squadron of troopers, go against two Knights of Ren-” his eyes widened “-and face down the fucking  _ Supreme Leader of the First Order  _ for you to fucking  _ invalidate my kriffing descions!”  _ Rage bubbled and popped in your chest, heart beating frantically as you watched Poe stutter before getting the words out. 

“You did  _ what?”  _ Your jaw snapped shut as you stared in defiance, refusing to repeat what you knew would make him mad.  _ Stars, help me.  _ He strode around the desk and grabbed your shoulders as if he made to shake the words out of you.  _ “Answer me!”  _

The sound of boots on the stairs broke the staring match as Rey and Finn busted through the paper thin door, splitting methodically in a rhythm that they had to learn over one too many failed attempts. Finn immediately separated you and Poe, dragging him into the far corner with soft words and a firm arm. Rey immediately wrapped her arm around you and led you back through the door. Before she gently nudged the nearly broken door shut, you saw Poe collapse into Finn’s arms, silent sobs shaking his shoulders as he hid his face in the taller man’s neck. Your feet never felt heavier as you went down the steps, Rey staying close and supporting you. 

* * *

Frantically wiping at your own tears, the Resistance members who had stayed after the meeting suddenly found somewhere else to be when you came back down. The paper thin walls surely didn’t hide much and your face burned with the realization that nearly everyone on base had heard the explosive failure of an argument. Just when you needed to present a unified front to motivate the troops, two of the highest ranking officers get into a screaming match. Fucking  _ great.  _ If people already didn’t question your ability to properly lead in your position, they certainly had a reason to now. 

Rey led you through the maze of halls and into a smaller wing that was acting as the sleeping quarters for the troops. She found the miniscule room where she had set her things and gently pushed you on to the cot next to hers, sitting down next to you with her arm still thrown over your shoulders. The room looked like it would’ve been a supply closet in its heyday, but you were thankful for the minimal privacy the small room offered as you let the tears out, burning with shame, guilt, anger, and all the in between. She held you through it and gently brushed your hair out of your eyes, letting you literally cry onto her shoulder. 

Once the tears dried out, Rey gently turned your head to look her in the eye. 

“You know I love you right?” You nodded, waiting for her to continue. “Tell me what you can about the Supreme Leader and his Knights.” The intensity of her gaze reminded you who she was and what your encounter meant for her and the entire Resistance. Any hints, advantages, weaknesses that could be exposed, anything that could give Rey the upper hand when fighting him could mean the difference between winning and losing. 

“Well, for starters, I broke a force hold.” A shaky laugh accompanied the confession as the surrealness of it crashed over you. 

“Spill. Everything.” 

* * *

After divulging all of the information you could, picking through every single thing from turning your com off to finally landing here, Rey was satisfied with what she knew. 

“You realize that this is huge, right? A non-Force wielder being able to do  _ that  _ to one of the strongest people in the kriffing  _ galaxy.”  _ She was sprawled back on her cot after moving around during your conversation, eyes trained on the ceiling and arms crossed above her head. “Poe is never gonna let you out of sight after this.” 

“Do we really need to tell him?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “It’s not like it’s ever gonna happen again. It had to be chance, just me trying to get out of it. A strike of luck. Poe doesn’t need another reason to yell at me and I don’t need another reason to want to strangle him.” Rey made a sympathetic noise in response. 

“I just feel bad keeping this from him if it can help the rebellion in any way. It feels like a pretty big secret to keep.” The room fell to silence as you both mulled it over, footsteps padding past your door as the hustle of the base descended into pre-dinner chaos. Just on time, your stomachs growled in tandem. “Let’s get some food and find the boys. I’m sure Poe is calm enough by now that you two can talk a little more civilly.” 

Following your noses back into the main dome, a line was set up to receive freshly cooked rations. After waiting and spotting Finn and Poe at a table nearby, you steeled your nerves and slid your tray across the rough surface that served as the table, keeping your eyes down as you settled into your makeshift chair. Poe immediately looked up, his brown eyes rimmed with bright red. The scene of him crying in Finn’s arms replayed as you offered him an apple that you purloined from the food stash. A peace offering, if there could be such a thing. Knowing Poe well enough, he wouldn’t even take his favorite fruit if it meant one less calorie for another trooper. 

You hid your surprise as he took it from your hand, standing and stalking off into the network of hallways in the dorm wing. It wasn’t a great start, but it was a start nonetheless. Finn put a comforting hand on your shoulder and stood, trailing after Poe while still giving him the space he needed. You and Rey ate in silence, the warm food filling your belly and the events of the day weighing on your shoulders. Before you could fall asleep face first into what was left of your meal, you and Rey cleaned up your dishes and trailed back to your room. Changing into what could pass for sleepwear as well as training clothes, you pulled Rey into a hug before whispering goodnight and settling onto your cot. With the thin blanket pulled up to your chin, darkness quickly swept you away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, it means the world to me and every comment, kudos, bookmark, hit, keeps me going strong! :)


	3. Dust on the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing your punishment for Ajan Kloss, you ready to fix up the new base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the continued support! I hope you enjoy!

Stirring gently before opening your eyes to the darkness of the closet, you were overcome with panic before remembering the events that transpired the day prior. Curling your toes and stretching out your legs, you groaned as each muscle tensed and relaxed. Apparently running for your life was enough of a workout for your body to punish you with unholy soreness. You uncurled from facing the wall and turned over, frowning at Rey’s empty cot. Pulling on your only other set of clean training clothes, you traced your path from the previous night back to the dome, following the sound of Rey and Finn’s voices. 

“I’m just saying, maybe if you had experience with that sort of thing, you wouldn’t have embarrassed yourself that badly. I mean it was a  _ watering hole  _ Finn, stars known you should’ve just looked for another source.” Rey’s laughter followed as you stepped into the dome in time to see Finn stab at her with his fork. She dodged and scooted away, eyes dancing with mirth and she took another bite of what passed as breakfast. 

“Morning Commander. You look like you slept well.” Finn’s eyes went to your bedhead and you immediately gave him the finger, searching for the breakfast rations in the crate besides him. The three of you (and Poe) were always up before the base woke, often needing the extra time to plan the day to use each minute properly. No task without purpose, no time to be wasted. Satisfied with your pack, you pulled up a crate and dug in, the familiar tasteless mush filling the gaping pit in your stomach. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” You asked after swallowing a particularly dry mouthful. 

“Well the General hasn’t woken up yet, so we’ve just been working out how to divide the groups that will be goin-”

“The General hasn’t slept.” Poe corrected. His footsteps sounded heavy as he descended the staircase that led to the office. The bags under his eyes were far more prominent than before and the sand that stayed caked in his hair made the dark locks appear grey in the weak morning light. Like he had aged a decade overnight. Finn’s gaze swept over him, concern and annoyance dancing in his eyes. 

“I didn’t even hear you leave the room last night, how the hell?” 

“It’s not your fault you snore like a bantha and don’t open your eyes until you’ve had breakfast.” Rey admonished, slapping the back of Finn’s hand with her spoon. He yelped and drew his hand to his chest, shooting daggers her way before turning to address Poe. 

“You know very well that that type of schedule will run you into the ground. You should’ve woke me up and let me help you figure it out.” The thinly veiled hurt in his voice made you feel like you were intruding on a private moment. Poe’s shoulders slumped. Was he  _ embarrassed?  _

“You needed the sleep more than I did.” Finn balked at the weak attempt to justify his frankly stupid actions. 

“And the Resistance doesn’t need their General crashing his ship when he falls asleep at the wheel. You’re gonna sit down and eat breakfast, then take a long nap. Even if I have to strap you to the damn cot.” Where you expected Poe to protest, all he did was nod and pull up a crate next to Finn’s, reaching over him to grab a ration pack and tear it open with his teeth. 

Even from the start, Poe had a soft spot for the Stormtrooper that saved him. It didn’t matter that Finn’s rank was lower than his or that he had less experience on the battlefield. Whenever the ex-Stormtrooper had advice or wanted to give a piece of his mind, Poe listened. Wholeheartedly and earnestly, even. When Finn needed help with fixing a droid or repairing one of the ships, Poe was the first to push everything aside and help. It was adorably stupid to watch, honestly, the way that they danced around each other. Both too headstrong to act first, both too stubborn to admit their feelings, both too scared to ruin what they had. 

Even where Poe was solid granite with anyone else, he turned to putty in Finn’s hands, the hard lines and strong exterior giving way to soft edges and heartfelt words. You envied him a bit in the way that he handled Poe’s fire, acting as a cooling balm that soothed him rather than stirring his flames further, like you were wont to do. It was something special that they shared, a life debt turned friendship that was in the middle of the confusing stage. As rocky as your relationship with Poe was, people deserved to find happiness where they could. Especially in war time. And especially if it meant Finn was happy. 

The comfortable silence continued as the four of you ate breakfast, the rest of the base still sleeping peacefully after unloading what was immediately needed the night before. The way that Poe and Finn’s legs were pressed together didn’t go unnoticed as you watched Poe slowly eat, a faraway look in his eyes. He really was exhausted after spending the night awake, probably figuring out the next stage for the Resistance. You finished your slop and set the plate aside, deciding to avoid Poe’s gaze for now. The threatening of your position still stung like an open wound, but seeing how tired you brother was, you didn’t want to aggravate him any further. Rey was scrolling through a data pad when she made a confused noise. 

“Poe, you didn’t schedule your sister for ground training for the next three days and-” a few more concise taps “-you didn’t schedule Finn for the next three weeks.” Poe sighed as he hung his head. Rolling his shoulders back, he sat up again with a dull fire in his eyes. The General using his last bits of energy to plan for his troops, to make sure that everything worked out.  _ His strength definitely came from Mom.  _

“Finn is going on a mission in a few days, to try and rally some allies in the Outer Rim. Jannah should be ready to greet him on Kef Bir and fly out from there and Chewie should also be flying in. He’s gonna bring them to Kashyyyk to try and broker an alliance. The wookie clans have been fighting for a long time and hopefully we can take advantage of their turmoil to gain a few powerful allies, most likely at the cost of our support should it come to a civil war.” Digesting the information, you thought about the repercussions of sending Finn away. The impact it would not only have on Poe, but on the troops that looked to Finn for a positive boost throughout the day. It would be a hard felt loss, unless… 

“Why not me?” Poe was already frowning. “Why don’t I go with Jannah and Chewie? I’ve been to Kashyyyk before and I know the basics of wookie politics. It would make more sense for someone who has had experience in the political climate to go, to better navigate the terms of an alliance so we can get the most out of it.” The blossoming excitement at the prospect of going on an adventure was crushed when Poe quickly shook his head. 

“No. No way. The reason that you supposedly have the next three days off is because I’m putting you on janitorial duty. This base is filthy and you still need to be punished for the stint you pulled yesterday, Commander.” Your title was added almost as an afterthought. And you heard the unspoken words that hung in the air between you. 

_ I’m not losing you again.  _

Rey averted her eyes as she methodically added the information to the datapad. Finn looked agreeable to the idea and you tried to find the words to protest before you realized this was Poe’s way of compromising. Of apologizing, even. He addressed you by your title purposefully, to bring attention to the fact that you still had it.  _ Good to know he realized that he overstepped yesterday.  _ There was no other soldier that could lead the ground units like you could. Merely nodding your head, you began to mentally sort through the exercises that you would have to distribute in your absence. 

* * *

Three days have passed since Ajan Kloss. Three days spent cursing Poe’s name through your teeth as you cleaned the base from top to bottom. The first day was by far the dirtiest as you had to tackle the layers of grime that covered the walls, floors, ceilings and literally any surface that hadn’t crumbled away from the frequent sandstorms. Your nose was endlessly itchy and you didn’t remember what color your hands actually were by the end of day, spending at least an hour in the fresher to get them to some semblance of clean. The ache in your palms and forearms was persistent, as well as the stale smell of dust that permeated your nose even after scrubbing your whole body. After eating dinner, you met with the officer that you had put in charge of ground training while you were serving your punishment. The reports were sound enough that you were able to sleep without worry, knowing that your troops were still working hard. 

The second day was spent taking inventory in the various stock rooms that were a complete mess. The panic of quickly moving bases on short notice meant that everything was sprawled across the different wings, making it next to impossible to tell what you had and what you needed. Moving the heavy crates and barrels around was a surprisingly tedious task. The cleaner droids that were helping you insisted on carrying them and you threatened to disable them, pride preventing you from accepting any help. However, moving everything into its proper place was satisfying and making sure that the supplies were clean and accessible when needed was a service that you were glad to do for your troops. Helping in any way you could was important, even if your pride was bruised and you'd rather be training with the ground forces. Finn teased you at dinner that night about being a proper housewife and you nearly bit his head off. The comment made you take your meal to your cot and stew in the dark of the closet before passing out in exhaustion. 

The third day was by far the worst. It was clear that this base wouldn’t be comfortable until a power source could be connected. Eating by candle light was getting old fast and the supplies weren’t going to last forever. Digging out some old panels in the piles of junk around town, you were able to attach them to the roof of the dome in a way that allowed them to absorb the central star’s energy and transfer it into the power generator that would run the lights. After meticulously going through each wing and soldering the frayed wires, replacing the broken bulbs, dragging out the sand and grime that had blown into the crawlspaces, you let out a whoop of joy as the droids activated the panels and connected them to the last few wires. The lights flickered...and held as the low buzz of electricity filled the building. 

Running through the newly lit wings, you took the stairs two at a time up the office. Throwing the door open to a surprised Finn and Poe, you flicked the switch to the lights and they buzzed on, throwing the office into a dull glow from the single bulb. The boys smiled at your amusement as you ran back down the stairs, flicking on the light switches wherever you could find them. A few of the vets laughed as you ran by, clearing enjoying seeing you in high spirits after being miserable for the last few days. Once every light was tested, you ran straight back to Poe. He was still pouring over documents with Finn, hushed voices echoing down the staircase as you ran back up, two stairs at a time. 

“Can I train tomorrow? With my troops? No more cleaning?” Your breath came in gasps as you asked, pulling your best puppy dog eyes that you could muster. 

“You may.” Poe said distractedly, still pouring through the documents that were most likely confidential to Finn’s mission. You squealed (not that you would ever admit it) and ran around the desk to wrap him into a hug. Finn’s laughter felt like wings in your feet as you ran to tell Rey the good news. 

* * *

Nearly inhaling your breakfast, you rushed back to your room to get dressed for the day. Wrapping up in the way that Rey had shown you the night before, you donned your training clothes with a gauzy outer layer that allowed you a healthy length of movement without feeling hindered by it. Hauling your cyracks onto your back, you set out into the town square, which had been determined the safest (and most stable) place for training. 

Upon arrival, your troops were already going through the basic warm up motions, some who were more injured in the recent battle polishing blasters and giving pointers on the few one on one fights that were happening. As Commander of the Ground Units of the Resistance, you led the troops through all sorts of melee exercises, drills, and mock battles that would help in the fight against the First Order. You also ran the few teams that specialized in non-blaster weapons, always prepared for infiltration and whatever was required of them. They were your best soldiers and you took immense pride in their skill that you worked relentlessly to develop, working with all of the officers one on one to harness their full potential. . 

Deciding to observe for the first hour of practice, you wove in and out of the individual units, mentally marking what needed work. 

And you were  _ not  _ happy with what you saw. Sloppy footwork, incorrect technique,  _ laziness.  _ As if a battle was an excuse to take it easy and to forget that this was still war, even if the threat no longer loomed directly over their head. 

“Officer Parker! Over here for a moment.” You led the officer into the shadows of the nearby supply shack, far enough away that the gossips of the base wouldn’t be able to hear. 

“Yes Commander Dameron?” The man looked rather bored, almost dismissive as if he couldn’t sense the anger that was threatening to bubble over at any minute. 

“Why were your reports from the last three days completely inaccurate?” The man had the nerve to look  _ confused.  _

“Whatever do you mean Commander? The troops have been accelerating in training excellently and have been showing promising effort over the last three days.” His tone became condescending, completely denying the utter lack of proper assessment and complete lack of skill the troops were showing. 

“Parker, I seriously want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I have men out there holding their kriffing blasters  _ backwards.  _ What trials did you run the group through in the last three days? And if I were to ask them, would their answer be the same as yours?” You let the tinge of a threat edge into your voice as he stared back. 

“Perhaps their lack of skill is coming from a weakness in  _ leadership,  _ Commander. After all, we all know that you only have this position because Poe thinks that those plates on your hand are  _ so  _ special.”  _ The fucking nerve.  _ “Leia never should have put him in charge and he shouldn’t have appointed you in turn. If you’ll excuse me, I have to guide the assault unit through this morning’s exercises.”  _ Like hell you are.  _ The pure fury made your vision blank red before you took a breath, remembering that he wanted to rile you. You would not let him have the satisfaction of seeing your temper. At least not right now. 

“What a wonderful idea,” you gritted out. “Let’s teach them by example. Take your weapon of choice and show them how to disarm me while removing my ability to threaten you.” 

You took immense pleasure in seeing his eyes widen in shock before hardening in determination. Face set in a severe scowl, he chose two daggers from the weapon supply before gathering the soldiers around the central training ring. 

“Today we are running through disarmament. As you can see, our Commander has returned to us after serving on cleaning duty-” A few snickers went up in the crowd. You let your eyes sweep over the troops and they went silent. “-and she suggested that we demonstrate a simple disarming battle. I have my weapon of choice, daggers that many of you carry in your packs right now. Cyracks, however, are a rather  _ unusual  _ fit, though I will still show you how to render your enemy helpless with seemingly simple weapons.” You checked the fit of the straps around your hand, making sure that the knot was tightened properly. After taking up your places inside of the ring, Parker settled into a wide opening stance. His daggers caught the early sun and the blades gleamed. You settled into your own position, arms loose at your side and knees slightly bent. The soldier that was assigned the starting call looked to you both before raising him arm. 

“Begin!” 

Parker immediately darted forward, one dagger aiming for your neck while the other was pressed parallel with his palm, blade flat and intending to slam into your knee.  _ Easy.  _ You quickly sidestepped and brought the flat of your cyrack against his back, using him as a springboard as you pushed and swiveled around him, stepping back to the center of the circle. He turned and his face was curled in a sneer of frustration _.  _ He swung with more intent this time, both blades angled to carve under your shields and into your stomach. Taking the hit on your right, you pulled in the blades between your two weapons, flipping the left dagger out of his hand. He snarled in your face and you smiled in response. 

Pushing out of the bladelock, he stepped back and stayed low, preparing his next move by trying to seize up the weak points in your defense. He edged back around the circle and picked up the dagger you had knocked aside, spinning it in his palm before snaking forward and angling one of the daggers straight at the sun. You shut your eyes before the gleam hit and blocked his next move on pure instinct. You heard his grunt of surprise as the dagger bounced harmlessly off of the metal. He played dirty. So could you. 

Opening your eyes to find him lunging again, you kicked up the sand around you, sending it straight into his eyes. Knocking his wildly swinging daggers aside, you pummeled him with palm flat blows that went straight to his chest, pushing the air out of him and sending him sprawling across the circle. Someone gasped as he lunged for the dagger to his right and threw it straight at your face. Whirling just in time to block it, the dull  _ ping  _ echoed in your ears as his words came flooding back. ‘ _ After all, we all know that you only have this position because Poe thinks that those plates on your hand are _ so _ special.’ _

He scrambled for the second dagger and dove again, striking fast before darting away.  _ Do not let it control you _ . The rage swelled in your chest as he stabbed at your feet, pushing you back to the center of the circle. Aiming to trip you, he stuck out his leg and forced you back onto it with the dagger’s point.  _ Enough.  _

Lurching up, you twisted so that you were pressed up against him, both cyracks trapped between your back and his front, the dagger hovering across your neck. He smiled as he realized he had you trapped. 

_ “How’s this?”  _ You snarled before pushing him back, his dagger swinging wildly before you uppercut with your left and knocked his chin up. Right hand blocking and left striking fast, your movement became a blur as you began pushing him across the circle. Disregarding any defense he had, you pushed him  _ out _ of the circle, bringing the blade edges inches from his throat each time. You dug into your fury and redoubled your efforts before he let out a  _ oomf  _ as his back touched the crumbling wall of a shed. You knocked the dagger out of his hand and held your right blade up to his throat. 

_ Do it.  _

You pushed another inch. 

**_Do it._ **

Another. The whites of his eyes flicked as he watched your face, then the blade. Your face, then the blade. 

**_DO IT._ **

You threw your hand forward, decimating the wall behind him. 

“Do  _ not  _ question the leadership of this unit again, Officer.” You snarled into his ear before leaving him to slump against the rubble. You stalked back to the troops and forced your voice to steady, even if the need for a real fight still thrummed in your arms. Your brain was still hazy with the fury of the fight and you tried to push it down. 

“That was a lesson in the usefulness of your environment. Parker used the sun to blind me just as I used the sand against him. You must always,  _ always  _ be aware of your surroundings when trying to win a battle. It will often serve you well if you use the surrounding environment to your advantage.” The troops were looking at you with a different kind of respect. The few that had laughed in the beginning now stood silent. “Take a break. And someone please help Parker onto his feet.” After they scurried back to the main base, you stood in the town center. There was a voice that had spoken to you during the battle, that had urged your bloodlust to the point where you considered slitting a man’s throat. Where had it come from?

“Those thoughts weren’t produced at my urgings. They simply came from you.” You spun to greet the source of the voice and found the Supreme Leader of the First Order standing in the middle of the square, black fabric and darkness rippling off of him like rain. You looked to the passing patrols to see if they would help when they simply walked by him as if he wasn’t the  _ kriffing Supreme Leader.  _ “Where are you?” Your eyes snapped back to him as you readied your blades. 

_ “What?” _

“Where  _ are you?  _ All I can see are those blasted weapons of yours and you yourself.” His voice was metallic through the helm, though scientifically curious as well. His head moved slightly as if trying to see, though the black visor revealed nothing. 

“What the hell do you mean where am I? Aren’t you here too?” You forced your voice steady. This could not be happening, there simply wasn’t any sort of logical explanation. You heard what could pass for a chuckle from him. 

“This is happening, though I am not where you are. You can’t see my surroundings, can you? No, not with that look on your face. Strange how the Force works, bringing me right back to what should’ve been mine after that stint you pulled in the forest.” His voice dropped at the mention of the battle. 

“I am no one’s  _ thing,  _ least of all yours,” You snarled back. “Turn whatever the hell this is off. I don’t need you in my head or my thoughts or wherever the fuck you are.”  _ Stars, this is a mess.  _

“It is a mess indeed. Unfortunately for you, I cannot control this little  _ expedition,  _ should you so call it. I simply felt anger that wasn’t mine, in my head. I followed it and I found you. So it should be  _ you  _ that should be getting out of my head, girl.” 

_ The battle. This was triggered by the anger from the battle.  _ Another dry laugh came from the mask. 

“Indeed, it appears that your anger is now a connecting line in us. What that means, however, I do not know.” 

“Stay the hell out of my head. And there is no  _ us,  _ we are nothing but enemies on different sides of a war. You just happen to be Supreme Leader.” 

“ _ Happen  _ to be? Foolish words. I earned this title just as you earned the bounty that now hangs over your head. I’ve done enough for this position that grants it to me one hundred times over.” His voice was angry now, even with the metallic overlay.  __

You decided to inch forward, ready to swing with your right should he move. You got the sense that he was watching you with something akin to… _ amusement? _ The word flickered in your brain with a faint feeling accompanying it. You gently traced it to the back of your mind and touched upon it, gasping and immediately drawing back. 

It stung you like a livewire, a direct pathway of energy that had something unmentionably dark on the other end, ceaseless violence and raw fury slamming into you before you had the chance to remove your hand. It felt downright  _ wrong,  _ like an invasion of your morals and your life had just occurred and you were powerless to stop it, forced to watch it happen as it entered your head unbidden. Even after you mentally pulled away, it’s taint lingered in your mind. Almost as if he felt the intrusion, the Supreme Leader’s stance changed, going scarily still. 

“What did you see?” You had to go, get away from this. This wasn’t normal, so much  _ darkness _ at the other end. It felt like a scar in your very mind, ugly and gaping. Festering. Growing. 

“ _ What did you see?”  _ You shook your head and made to run, to get to Rey and Finn and Poe and something that wasn’t this. You heard the buzz of a lightsaber and guarded your head on instinct, the heat of the blade ricocheting off of your flat palm as you spun to meet the next blow. 

Empty desert air greeted you. Not a footprint in sight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh thank you for reading!!!!! It means so much to me and your comments and kudos keep me going!! <3


	4. Bits and Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY STAR WARS DAY!!! I wanted the first introduction of our favorite emo with a glow stick to be decent by my weird standards, so it took a bit longer than normal. Hope you enjoy!

He let out another grunt of frustration as the hilt of his saber caught the crossed daggers before heaving out of the bladelock, only to be met with the biting curve of two wickedly sharp kama aiming for his neck.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _ Each frustrated thought punctuated by the scream of his saber whirring through the cold training room air, the Knights ever relentless in their assaults. Dodge, duck,  _ slash,  _ parry, kick, move,  _ stab,  _ catch, throw,  _ Hux?  _ He let the Force out in wave, a pulse that he hardly controlled in the face of this red-faced  _ rat.  _ Lanko let out a small chuff as the Knights backed off. He must’ve let the thought transfer through the air. As the Knights went to clean off after a rather rough training session, Kylo let a frustrated stream of air escape through his nose before collecting his composure and deigniting his saber, ignoring the impulse of driving it through Hux’s chest until the hilt hit that stupidly smug face. 

“Supreme Leader, ever a pleasure to witness your skill.” Every word dripped in hate and coiled in a level of sarcasm only Hux could manage to talk with. Without sparing him a glance, Kylo summoned a datapad and chucked it over his shoulder, not bothering to see if Hux would catch it. He let himself enjoy the startled sound as he made his way to the showers in the side room, fully intending to wash off the layer of sweat and perhaps even some of the lingering frustration that seemed to cling ever since Ajan Kloss. Hux’s sound of disapproval stopped him and he instead went to the edge of the training room, the completely glass wall giving him an unparalleled view of the black that the First Order’s fleet now commanded. 

“Sir, you are needed at  _ several  _ important meetings involving the Ratan system and the subsequent duties that revolve around the acquisition of such a  _ barbaric  _ place. If you would follow me effective immediately, the negotiations and plans could proceed at a rather reasonable ra-” he choked off as Kylo got tired of hearing his voice echo in the large room. Really, perhaps he should consider using Hux’s voice on the battlefield. Being able to render an enemy with a headache in less than a minute would surely give the First Order some unprecedented advantages. 

“Record what needs to be done and tend to what you could easily do instead of annoying me with  _ baseless  _ tasks that the Supreme Leader has no business doing. I will take care of what needs remain at  _ my  _ pace and mine alone.” He let his voice drop into the growl he used when discussing the throes of his empire with the particularly nasty generals. Hux was a special thorn in his side and he felt the cruel delight bloom in his mind as the erratic feeling of fear and annoyance smudged the General’s aura, his windpipe still effectively locked. “Leave the pad with the guards outside. I’ll retrieve it as I see fit. Dismissed.” He let the General go and turned from the large window he was facing, entering the showers where the Knights had disappeared to not a minute before. He ignored the hissed “ _ Savage.”  _ that was aimed at his backside from the gasping man on the floor. 

* * *

The Knights had already dressed in their standard guard attire when he finished his shower and went to pull on his tunic. Their heavy looking plated torsos and gleaming Beskar weapons made for an intimidating sight, yet he understood, as did they, that it was purely for the intimidation factor. The weapons at their sides, Kylo’s included, were only half as deadly as those who wielded them. The thrum in the Force that rippled around all of them intensified when he stood. He let the reins loosen, letting the power extend to cover the Knights in a layer of pure energy, a shield of sorts for their walk to the meeting. He felt the sparks as it bounced off of their individual ties, the different wieldings of the Force smarting against each other, then settling. 

It had taken a long time to get to get to the point where he could stand to be around the others and let his power out, even more so when they were tapping into theirs as well. The Force, as mighty and all powerful as it was, was extremely  _ sensitive.  _ He felt other people and their ties to the power, as well as their emotions, as flares in his awareness. He learned to tune it out with time, but it was still a conscious thought that took a bit of his effort to manage. As much as it was a blessing to wield, it was a curse to feel each person and their infinite emotions swirling around his head all day. While his control of the Force was unprecedented in recorded history (Jedi, Sith, or otherwise), it was also an unseen burden that weighed rather heavily on his shoulders. Without constant monitoring, the Force would curl into something ugly that could hurt him as much as it helped him. He balanced it throughout the day, but it was still always teetering on the edge of something dangerously explosive. 

That besides, if he didn’t let out these little bursts, the pressure would grow until he  _ had  _ to let it out. Learning that the hard way wasn’t fun. Maybe that was what Luke sa- no. No. He slammed the steel trap down on the thought, let it dissolve into nothingness before recollecting himself and double checking the shield. The barrier around his little entourage didn’t waver, though he felt Dagrun’s concern brush up against the invisible wall. He must’ve let something slip through then, yet his eldest Knight was always more in tune with him than the others. 

It was a strange way of communicating, of letting the emotions personify into an element of the Force and project it outwards. It was useful in battle, in warnings and planning and strategizing. Times like this too, it was easier to communicate through the nothingness than to ask questions out loud. Questions highlighted weaknesses and left you exposed in the cold air. Questions betrayed doubt in the person being questioned.

Questions could get you killed. 

He reassured the Knight that he was fine and the sensation faded away, Dagrun’s Force returning to him though still pressed up supportively against the shield. He extended it a bit to give himself breathing room, the helmet feeling a little more weighty. He ran a line through each Knight, feeling their response as if they had said it out loud. The ease and the familiarity of which he sensed them soothed annoyance into a dull thrum in his chest. 

However, that changed when he felt Hux before he saw him, a beacon of spite and frothing hate waiting outside of the conference room where the meeting was to take place. Rolling his shoulders back, he let the Force loose again and felt it fill the hallway, a small rush of air pushing outwards before the power settled like a thick cloak. The Knights shifted behind him, each Force signature flaring as they wrapped themselves in a personal shield to protect against their own weaknesses. They had spent hours upon countless hours training and he knew each of their bodies perhaps better than his own. As few and far between as their weaknesses were, plates of armor reinforced with layers of energy would make them unstoppable. 

As they turned the corner into the wing where the meeting was being held, Kylo took in Hux’s appearance behind the safety of his visor. He had a faint trace of the fear from the training room still lingering about him like a sour cloud, but other than that he just seemed annoyed.  _ When is he not, though? _

“The meeting has been underway for a standard hour, Supreme Leader. I advise you to enter now as to soothe the tempers that have been left in the wake of your rather  _ reckless  _ actions.” Hux’s face reached a new level of pale as he felt the raw wave of power slam into him, taking a minute step back before lowering his eyes to his perfectly polished shoes. Smart of him to learn his place, even if it was only for a few minutes before he was back and yapping at Kylo’s heels. He would take the quiet where he could find it. 

Kylo elected to not give Hux a response as he merely flicked a finger and the door slid open, revealing a few rather angry politicians in the middle of a shouting match. Their jaws snapped shut as they stood, chairs squeaking on the polished black floors as they scrambled to give him the respect he deserved.  _ Good.  _

The representatives from the Ratan system stood more slowly, clearly unused to the customs of the first order. There were eight in all, varying from age and gender, though not appearance. They seemed mostly humanoid, with human facial features and general body shape. Small horns poked out of their forehead and their lack of irises were the only thing that gave away their human ruse. Each person was dressed in sun weary leathers and thick necklaces covered in strangely shaped beads and odd ends, each dyed in bright colors that probably had some special meaning. The ones who presented as mostly female had long headdresses made of scales and bones, cascading down their shoulders and rattling slightly as they stood. 

_ Not very advanced.  _ The comment came from Besha, who stood directly behind Lando in their little formation.  _ They had never flown in space before, the pilots reported them nearly fainting during takeoff.  _ Sending a quick thanks down the bond, he returned his attention to the room. 

The table stretched the length of the space, the high back black chairs that provided seating all occupied by Kylo’s council. Besides the head of the table, of course. He felt the Knights spread out their nets, filling each corner with their power before each responding in turn, finding nothing suspicious or worthy of posing any threat. 

After allowing them to do their duty, he strode through the room, merely making his way to the glass wall that framed his chair. Space was beautiful as ever, the inky black stretching out with small specks of stars and faraway systems adding to the allure. The occasional TIE squadron darted across the black, running training simulations and polishing up the tight formations that were characteristic of First Order fleets. He turned and took his seat, Dagrun and Lanko taking their spots at his sides while the rest filtered into the corners, blending into the dark walls and bleeding into the shadows. He let the Force roll through the room in a lazy wave before reining it in once more, the gentle purr of it settling in his chest. 

He gestured for the men to sit and held out a hand for the datapad that Hux had clutched in his hands. It flew across the room, the representatives from the Ratan system letting out muffled gasps. He had forgotten that most hadn’t ever witnessed a Force user. Hated and feared, a dual edged sword that could serve a purpose in these negotiations. 

“What have we discussed thus far, General Quinn?” The metallic voice sounded loud in his own ears. He already elected to keep the helmet on during the meeting, wrapping himself in obscurity and leaving the representatives to make him into whatever monster hunted him in his dreams. It was easier to let the rumors run than to quell them with the truth. His mother had taught him that. 

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” It took the graying man a moment to pull up the necessary information on his data pad, most likely a list for what needed to be covered in these particular negotiations. “We have discussed the implementation of a reigning sovereign to take control of the system once the proper protocols have been established. Out of the nine planets within the Ratan system, eight of them are suitable for habitation by our men. The ninth is a gas planet that has no known inhabitants.” A few more taps and a map was projected. Hovering over the table was a holo of the nine planets, five smaller in size while the three remaining were a tad larger. The gas planet was at the center of the system, its size dwarfing the rest. 

“Have you scouted the ninth for the possibility of gas mining?” Tales of a sunset planet and a story about his grandfather rippled through his thoughts before disappearing. 

“Not yet sir. Would you like me to send the order to the ground force? I’m sure Commander Phasma could lead a squadron effective immediately.” 

“Yes, that would be most agreeable. We need to see if it would be suitable for containing labor camps from the other eight planets.” The air in the room went dead. The eight representatives stiffened at his words. They shifted uncomfortably, the symbols and paints on their leather coverings out of place against the sleek black chairs and the industrial cleanliness that the rest of his council had donned.

“Labor camps, sir?” A deep voice with a thicker accent, barely speaking Basic. He did not flinch when Kylo turned his visor to look at the humanoid head on. He rose and straightened his posture, his shoulders squaring back as he held the Supreme Leader’s gaze. The male was the oldest in the group, though still younger by human standards. Perhaps 30 standard years or so. Kingsley shifted ever so slowly behind him, hand moving imperceptibly to the mace at his side. The  _ thing  _ wouldn’t have a chance to jump if Kinglsey’s mace swung true. And it always did. 

“Labor camps for those that have come under the First Order’s authority. Camps that would keep them from getting  _ killed _ while still providing use to the Empire. Remember your place in this room and who holds the rope around your neck.” He still did not shy from Kylo’s harsh reprimand of his questioning.  _ Questions could get you killed.  _

“I do not believe that my pee-ple would be agreeable to the idea, sir. Pride is far too strong.” Again, he did not break Kylo’s stare, didn’t back down from his unseeing gaze. 

“Then perhaps they will find a pile of ash more suiting. The bones of women and children burn just as easily as yours will. From what planet do you hail?” He pointed a shaky hand to the third in the system. The end of his finger tapered into a claw. So close to human, but so very not. 

“ _ Raegen,  _ sir.” The accent softened in his native tongue when he said the name. Kylo tapped the information for the planet, reading a detailed description of the exports and what natural resources were offered. Plenty of fuel and many,  _ many,  _ scattered mineral deposits that could be used to make a new fleet. The labs were chartering for a new deal that would let them proceed with updating the TIE fighters into the next model. Perhaps this could be a solution. 

“And what of your people now? Do they fight against my orders, the troops that I have landed to secure my rule?”

“They do not want tem there, sir. We are still and quiet, but we do not not tem there.” Honesty was a bad thing to bring into politics. He wasn’t trained in the careful negotiations and snaking lies that often led to passing laws. He wasn’t trained on how to get the best of the deal for his side, on how to protect what needed it and barter what didn’t. It meant he was speaking from his heart. A dangerous, fickle thing. 

“It matters not to me what they want, Representative. What matters is that they understand what will become of them if they resist.” He conjured the image of a village burning, the screams of children as their mothers disintegrated next to them. The suffocating smell of smoke, the charred flesh of corpses. He cleaved the man’s mind and planted the image, held him there and forced him to  _ see.  _ See what a useless fool he would be if he dared to allow the whispers of rebellion to spread throughout the little rural village from which he came. There, fear began to grow. The small seed he planted was burrowing further into the man’s mind, the heavy taint of it permeating the conference room as easily as a spice cloud. 

_ Attachments are a weakness,  _ a spitting voice hissed to his mind. He couldn’t tell if it was Snoke’s or Luke’s. It didn’t matter. 

He decided to dig deeper and found the memories shrouded in love, in peace and in content. A woman holding a bundle in her arms, the tiny hands reaching for the bangles and trinkets that decorated her neck. Sprinkled with peals of infant laughter and a charming smile. The small and ugly parts of him reared back in disgust. This man had a family. 

He carefully plucked the faces, the bodies, the mannerisms of this family, from the memories. He curled back to the scene and pushed them into the fiery village, into the inferno and harrowing despair as they burned alive in a collapsed village hut. He felt the fear he sowed grow into a maelstrom, of disbelief and of terror. Far, far away, back in the conference room, the man let out a low moan of pain. 

_ Do you see?,  _ he whispered into his ear.  _ Do you see how I can destroy what matters most?  _

All at once, he stepped out of the representative’s mind and back into the conference room. Quinn had a displeased look on his face, though he knew better than to speak against Kylo’s usual method of persuasion. A few of his least favorite generals had smiles on their faces. Pervasive delight made their auras spike and he sneered in disgust behind the safety of the mask. This council could use a few new members, but Hux would throw a damn tantrum. 

_ You were gone for about 3 minutes, sir.  _ Lanko’s deep baritone flitted across his mind. 

_ It was the same as all the others. Worldly fears and war crimes make for an open target,  _ was Kylo’s response. A small chuckle at the other end of the bond finished the conversation. 

“What was that, Representative?” The man turned his head to the ground, his skin clammy and his eyes unfocused. He started to slouch with his head near thumping against the glass table before Kinglsey grabbed the man’s nape and tugged him up in his chair, eyes rolling in fear. The others flinched away, a few watching in abject horror. In contrast, Kylo’s council looked bored, a few eager for what was to proceed. 

“He asked you a question.  _ Answer it.”  _ The snarl of command in his voice was rough enough for Kylo to notice the telltale spark of anger that led to Kingsley’s legendary temper. He sought out their bond.  _ Enough.  _ The man was released and slumped back in his chair, though this time he remained sitting up. The Knight stepped back into the shadows. 

“N-no thing, Supreme Leader. My pee-ple will do what you ask.” With the strongest dissenter contained and placeated, the rest of the representatives quickly echoed his statement. Easier than most systems, to be entirely honest.  _ Take down the strongest.  _ That was Han’s voice this time.  _ The rest will fall.  _

The rest of the meeting was spent discussing what needs would be met within the next month and what construction would begin within the different planets that were deemed resourceful enough to stage mining operations. It was clear that the eight representatives had never met, had never been in such a hostile political climate that was clawing at their homes with very little regard for the people that lived there. As more and more reports were sent in from the ground forces stationed on each planet, the ruthless parts of his council rose to the bait like eager dogs. Deal after deal was proposed and turned over, each angle being played until the planets were being squeezed for every last drop they contained. 

When the representatives did speak, it was only to offer input of what their planet contained or about the certain minerals that were being mined out. The smallest planet in the system was all ocean, charged with particles essential in creating engine coolant. A few of his Generals nearly slobbered at the idea of getting their hands on such a valuable resource before Hux slammed his palm on the table. The ceaseless bickering went quiet. Maybe Hux was good for some things after all. 

“That planet is going to be commandeered by my personal fleet. We have the necessary transports to begin draining the ocean immediately. This will not be up for discussion.” His eyes flicked across the table to the representatives, looking for a challenge he did not find. They remained silent. Quinn brought up the matters of constructing the labor camps on the gas giant should it be viable. 

The fighting started up again and Kylo wanted to hurl the table across the room. It wouldn’t ever be easy. He knew that. This position was something so many wanted, yet so few knew what it really entailed. He sought out Dagrun and brushed against his mind, leaving the image of two daggers buried in his own neck as the discussions went on as normal. Amusement danced around the image the Knight projected back, of Hux in a rather compromising position missing his favorite part, clearly lobbed off by a dagger. Kylo’s chuckle echoed down the bond before he returned his attention to his council. 

At some point while he was speaking with Dagrun, the discussion turned to rounding up the populace on each planet, the logistics of staging large scale evacuations being turned over to Hux. He efficiently divided up a miniscule portion of the fleet he controlled, making allowances should more troopers be needed to quell any resistance. When the matter came up to gather all of the villages, the question was posed to the representatives and they stayed silent. One offered up the simple response that simply didn’t talk to the other villages or other planets  _ at all.  _

_ Of course.  _ It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that next to none of the planets had any sort of proper medical supplies or the technology to instantly communicate with the next village over. 

“You mean that you rarely communicate at all?” Ester asked. A prime communications expert, Sergeant Ester was a valuable asset to Kylo’s personal council. With a steadily graying beard and twig thin figure, he looked older than his 56 standard years he held. It was his green eyes that gave away the striking intelligence and the constantly turning cogs in his head. It was a smaller female that answered his question, small black eyes and a slighter frame nearly getting swallowed by the massive black chair. 

“No, sir. The villages are separate and the pee-ple keep to themselves. Villages only house families and friends. No outsiders wel-kome.” It was her first time speaking despite the others offering choice words in the negotiations. She sounded more confident and educated than the others. It peaked his interest enough to sit up in his chair. 

“What is your name, Representative?” She too did not shy away from his gaze. The other male was right in saying that these people relied on pride. 

“My name is Shari’la. I come from Dumoth.” She pointed to the smallest planet, the one that Hux was draining for the massive charged oceans that the planet held. Strange how she was just now speaking when her planet’s fate had already been decided upon. 

“Enlighten me, why did you not speak before when we talked of draining Dumoth?” She didn’t seem surprised by the question. She merely blinked and her words sounded carefully chosen, as if she was well aware of how broken their Basic sounded. 

“My people do not live a good life.” She lowered her eyes to the fists clenched in her lap. “Food is easy and life is not terrible, but illness is vicious. We cannot stop it when it comes to ravage us. Our gods do not answer our prayers and when the colder months come, food becomes scarce.” She raised her head and her eyes shined with unspilled tears, her chin definitely jutted out. “If what you say is true, the labor camps will take that away. The food is constant and the medicine as well. That would be better than we are living now.” He thought she was done, but she spoke again. More hesitantly, as if she didn’t know how what she said next would be received. 

“I worry for the choldren, Supreme Leader. The camps would be nicer, but it is no place for a child to grow.” She twisted a ring on her smallest finger. He sent out a tendril, just to test. Just as he thought, she was expecting. Focusing, he felt the underlying current of anxiety pull at the edges of her mind. Would she be a good parent, how could she raise a child in these conditions, where would the child go if things went to war. He encountered a memory of watching someone she loved shot by a Stormtrooper on a dock, his body melting into the water and slipping under the waves. She was alone, then, a single parent to the babe in her stomach. 

And yet she didn’t seethe with hate or revenge. She didn’t bristle at being on this ship, with First Order stormtroopers and perhaps her greatest enemy right in front of her. Her mind was calm, if not hard with resolve to get her people to whatever safety could be brokered. She wasn’t letting her personal feelings interfere with what was happening in this room. The word for her struck him hard in the face, even as he was in the midst of combing through her thoughts.  _ Strong.  _ She had watched her lover get shot and tossed into the sea and yet she still sought peace, sought a way to get out of more fighting. He retreated carefully, making sure to leave her undisturbed and unaware of his intrusion. It was only once in a while that intruding on someone left him with a slimy feeling afterwards. 

“I have considered that.” He couldn’t tell if his voice was slightly gentler or if this meeting had gone on too long. “The children will be allowed to choose.” He felt Ester’s calculating gaze burn into the side of his helmet. This wasn’t in the original plans, though he was Supreme Leader. He could change what he wanted and when. 

“The children will stay at the onsite education centers in the camps while their parents work. They will be allowed with their parents until the age of ten. They can then choose whether to enter First Order service or stay with their parents and learn the way of the camps.” The scribes scrambled to record the new information. 

“Sir-” one of the generals made to speak and Kylo grabbed his tongue before another word got out. He felt the objection in the room, the strange turn of his mood making them uncomfortable and on edge. This wasn’t the normal routine and they were suddenly out in the open air, not sticking to the script they had so carefully orchestrated in their minds. The council could normally nudge deals in one way or another, brokering agreements that benefitted where they controlled or the exports they put out. Here though, this was new. Uncharted territory was dangerous in this room, especially when the Supreme Leader wasn’t being predictably nasty. 

The General gagged as the Force held his tongue. As much as he would prefer to watch Hux’s lackeys tear themselves apart, Kylo slipped the objection from his mind and disintegrated it, the General going still as the haze of a mind probe clouded his thoughts. Kylo released him and returned his attention to Ester and Quinn. 

“See to it that there are teachers available within the next month. The education systems and the housing will be completed first in each of the camps. Dumoth will be the first planet to evacuate once the necessary number of camps are complete. Shari’la will oversee the evacuation of the planet with Commander Keeno’s help.” Keeno was young and this would be a mission to prove himself. He thought with a level head and his loyalty wasn’t to the idea of the old Empire or to someone like Hux. He looked at the female again. They would be convincing enough leaders that the evacuation should run smoothly. 

“Contact Keeno and get the new mission to him quickly. He’ll be planetside by tonight. Get the formal documents regarding the construction of the camps on my desk within the next hour. I want a complete report of the planets and their indexes, as well as the different villages that need to either be destroyed, evacuated, or turned into mining operations. Tell Phasma to get the index of the gas planet to me as soon as she’s done. She needs to prepare to scout-” He looked at the map. The three next solid planets would do, as they were big enough to house the labor if the gas planet was unliveable. “-those. Should she run into any form of trouble or resistance, she has the permission to eliminate on sight.” He was done with this stupid game. 

Pushing back from the table and standing in the same movement, the rest of the council scrambled to stand with him. 

“That is all that needs to be covered today.” Authority edged the words and he made it clear that there wasn’t room for argument. “Tha Ratan representatives will return to their home planets and begin the preparations for large scale evacuations. Shari’la-” The woman’s eyes found his, even behind the visor. “Commander Keeno will meet you when you touchdown planetside to help expedite preparations for your planet specifically.” She nodded and tried to say something with her eyes. He grazed her mind and found her appreaciative and... _ grateful.  _ Thankful even. He recoiled and nearly forgot to conceal his flinch, slamming himself back into his own head and away from  _ that.  _ He wasn’t a person who deserved thanks, much less gratitude for anything he did. 

Sudden energy buzzed in his limbs and he needed to move, to get out of the politicking hell and away from words hidden in twisted meanings and people who just hoarded their greed for their own selfish means. He gently tugged Lando and Dagrun, who immediately fell into step behind him as he strode from the room, cape billowing behind him. He wanted away from those small black eyes that had dared be  _ thankful  _ for something he had done. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I can't thank you enough for reading! Any questions, please feel free to ask!


	5. IMPORTANT UPDATE

I want to do this right and I hate how the chapters are right now. I'm going to discontinue this story indefinitely and work on bringing it up to the standards that I desire for it. If you have any questions or want updates, the comments are open. Thank you for understanding lovelies.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I can't thank you enough for reading. I promise to try and get the next chapter out in a timely manner as this story simply will not leave my head. See you in the next one!


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